


Long Way Home

by Sonny



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, PanFandom Naptime Comment Fic, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT : J2, falling asleep in the back of the SUV on the way home after a long day - From peppervl on Livejournal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Way Home

**Long Way Home**

Cliff was warned ahead of time that the “scene” might be weird when he took Jared and Jensen home. He stood outside Jensen's trailer like a good guard dog, pushing his Bluetooth around his lobe and messing with the ear-bud in the other ear as he listened to MP3s at a low volume on his phone.

Speaking of his cell phone, he brought it out to make a quick check of his texts and voices messages, then all of the media outlets he was hooked into—see if anything had been updated in the last half-hour. No bum rush of new information except for the final warning from Jim Beaver, alerting him that he might want to steer clear of “pesterin' them boys” during the ride home.

He couldn't get an answer to why, but he knew that once he saw their faces he'd probably figure everything out on his own. As he pocketed his phone, standing tall and proud at the steps of Jensen's door, he could see the studio golf cart motoring toward him with Jared in the passenger seat.

Uh-oh... Jared still looked like “Sammy”— _first_ bad sign. Second bad sign was he had rushed through post-production and hadn't been able to return to his own trailer to shower and change. “Sammy” appeared to have been put through the wringer, and then some, which meant Jared had suffered greatly at the hands of his counter-part. It was all acting, but on some level Cliff had to assume actors put as much of themselves into a role when they could. The J's were consummate professionals and they'd been working on the show for years. At some point, pieces of Dean and Sam Winchester had to rub off on them.

Once the cart came to a full stop, Jared used one of the upper bars to jump down and swing around onto the pavement. He readjusted the thick DJ headphones over his lobes and waved “bye”. “—'night, Corey.”

“See ya' Monday, Jared.” Corey, a stage crew hand, reversed the golf cart until he could spin around and right himself to drive off the way he had just come from.

Jared clomped up to Cliff, small smirk lifting up one side of his mouth. “Clifford.”

“Hey, Hoss, you gonna step into Jen's trailer an' clean up or change before you—” Cliff didn't want to hurt Jared's feelings, but the kid looked as if he just had his ass kicked.

“Nah, I, uh... is he alone in there?” Jared furrowed his brow as he gestured toward Jensen's door.

Having crossed his arms in front of his burly chest, Cliff shrugged both shoulders by moving his arms only slightly. “I don't know. I got the call he was ready. To come git 'im.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Car's over there. I've only been here a few minutes. Don't sound like much goin' on in there, though.” Cliff tried not to pay attention for fear he'd be found snooping to scoop the gossip mongers.

Jared nodded once, going eerily quiet. He put down his knapsack and took off the monstrous earphones to lay them against his nape. “I got this.” Jared was tall enough to awkwardly reach over and knock a solid round of knuckles on the thin paneling. He backed up a few inches in case the door swung wide. One of the female production assistants, Dana, poked her head out. “Is he gonna be ready soon?” Jared showed his wristwatch, tapping on the glass face.

Dana glanced over her shoulder to say a few words, coming back to Jared to say, “He'll be out in five. He's on the phone with Newton.”

Jared knew that name as it was connected to some of the many network faces who gave them hefty pay checks. “Seriously? Is he being—? I told him—and them—I was fine. I told them—wait!” He deftly yanked the door handle out of Dana's hand, barreling past her to slip into the interior of the trailer.

Cliff liked Dana. She was one of the many staff members in the ancillary crew who took care of everyone on the show, but those in the filming crew as well—a thankless job. He took her hand to help her down the steps as she shut the door behind her swift exit. Cliff raised a curious eyebrow. “Should I be told any of this?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's better to hear it from a reliable source and not tomorrow when it's been wrung through the rumor mill a thousand times.”

“It's not—they're 'okay', aren't they? This isn't like a call that we should be extra worried about—like a 'pink slip'?”

“Barely like a reprimand, is what it is.”

“Jared?”

“Jensen.”

“Really?” Cliff was stunned by that fact. “What for?”

“A scuffle on set.” Dana knew what that sounded like, so she attempted to back track. She had to be careful about what she said to certain people. “Nothing major. Just a stunt gone wrong and—well, Jensen walked off.”

“Really?” Again, Cliff was continually being startled by all of this information. If he had heard it tomorrow he really would have thought it a silly rumor. “That's not—”

“—like him. No, it isn't. Which is why everyone is being so forgiving. The whole crew was shaken and—I think they knew Jensen would—and then when he did, they just... and now...”

“What went wrong with the stunt?” Cliff hated how weak that sounded; he could hear the desperation in his own tone to not be kept out of the loop.

“Uhm, well...” Dana glanced around her, hands moving to cup the sides of her lower back. “... to put it bluntly—Jared almost died...”

Cliff didn't think any words came out more blunter than those.

Dana's phone rang and headphones crackled simultaneously. “Okay...” She spoke low into her microphone. “They're already about to send out a search party for me. I better haul ass—jus'... uhm... I guess what you can do for them is to not ask anything directly. Like nothing related to the scene they shot today. Just let the moment flow organically.”

Cliff snorted at the word used, simply because it sounded so “LA” for Vancouver. “Organically?”

“Naturally. Don't force the issue. It was a, uh... pretty dramatic and emotionally charged scene for both of them. The added reality of almost losing Jar—well, it made it a little too real—you know?”

Cliff nodded in complete understanding. “And Jared thinks it's just another day of shooting...”

“—and Jensen feels like he could've lost his best friend.”

“Got it. Thanks, Dana.”

“—'night, Cliff. Good Luck.”

“Eh, I got it covered.” The second Cliff felt Dana was far enough away, he backed up to lean on the trailer's siding and took out his phone to give Beaver a “shout out” text of encouragement. He knew how much the old ball-breaker loved the boys.

 ****Js r talkin'. takin' ur advise. long way home, it is****

 **~~ &&~~**

The minute Jensen's door opened, Cliff backed the SUV to the steps to make their walk shorter. He tried to keep his eyes facing the windshield as he could see Jensen and Jared walking around the back end. In the rear view mirror, Cliff detected that they had come to an impasse—agree to disagree.

Dressed in slimming jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt and a “ **everything's bigger in TEXAS** ” hoodie, Jensen had donned a dark blue baseball cap and wore his trademark shades over his eyes. The brim of the cap almost covered his entire forehead. He climbed into the back passenger seat behind Cliff.

Jared moved to open the passenger door of the seat right next to Cliff, which elicited a double barrel exclamation of “ _What are you doing?!_ ” from both Jensen and Cliff, though Jensen's had the added “the fuck” directly after the “what”.

Jared took a quick step backward, hands raised in his defense. “Whoa...” In his best “Sammy” guise, he said, “ _Imma ridin' shotgun!_ ”... but Cliff was the only one who appreciated Jared's need to lighten the tension.

From the backseat came Jensen's mutterings, “Git the fuck back here, Padalecki!” He kept his head bowed, pulling his bag onto his lap to unzipper a pocket to yank out his phone. “Cliff, don't you dare ride off 'til he's back here with me—buckled in.”

Jared and Cliff dipped their heads to look at one another. Cliff quietly pleaded with Jared to do as Jensen said and not make him the “net” again in between their volleying dialogue.

“Jesus Christ! I get no damn respect!” It was Jared's turn to grumble as he secured the domed earphones over his lobes and climbed into his rightful place next to his fellow Texan and co-star. Just to be silly and a meanie, Jared brought down the middle console as if to block Jensen from being able to reach out and touch him.

“— ** _baby_** —”

“Oh, I'm the baby?!? Well... waaa-fuckin'-waaaa... I'm sure the editing booth would love to rewind the footage from today of your little tirade. Not exactly 'blooper reel' material, was it?”

Those words seemed to shut Jensen up entirely. Cliff could tell Jared regretted the growl the second he could settle down and get his bottom situated in the way-too comfortable seat. Jensen began to slouch and leaned toward the door as if to plaster himself to the plastic molding. Jared gave him a cursory glance only to be slightly shocked by the way Jensen was acting, but he could deal because he had said his peace enough times until he was blue in the face. Jensen was simply dragging things out because he hadn't gotten his way and everyone involved in the incident seemed to side with Jared—-that it was only a fluke and not the work of some master plan to his destiny.

Jared was the only one who actually knew why Jensen was this unnerved by the accident on set. A dream—a silly-ass dream a few days ago that Jensen had where he imagined something like this and he hadn't been able to save Jared. He couldn't tell anyone why Jensen had flipped out, why he'd gone ballistic on the pulley guy or why he stormed off the set to pace outdoors. Jared had to remain with the crew members to keep the spirits lifted since they had some idea they had been at fault for putting his life at risk. Jared response had typically been “it is what it is”; he hadn't taken this job to never take a risk—physically or emotionally. If he wanted to play it safe, he should leave now and never come back to acting. Jared loved it too much too abandon it now.

Jared hefted his knapsack to set it on the seats behind them, returning back to relax in the tiny space. He looked down at himself, picking at the thermal undershirt and plaid button-down shirt with the torn green denim jacket he was wearing. He smoothed down over his face and felt the added weight of make-up and special effect goop that made it look as if he'd been pounded around the walls of a four-paneled room a few times. It was still dry and adhered to his face, but he knew once he got his nailbeds under it and tried to pull the stuff off himself it would become sticky.

He gave a quick glance over to Jensen, now catching him with a left hand covering his face, along with the baseball cap brim. They were being jostled in the back seat, Cliff seeming to locate every pothole to drive the tires over. Jared cleared his throat, trying to find a way to break the ice back here so he could at least get Jensen to look at him—making him smile or laugh was going to be a greater task for later. The ride home was going to be quick and painless.

“Ahhh, shit...” Cliff mumbled from the front seat, his fingers punching out the LCD screen of the integrated GPS system in the car's dashboard.

Jensen sat upright suddenly and Jared leaned over to poke his head between the seats to check out what could be wrong.

“What? What's wrong?” Jared looked from the GPS to Cliff's driving and then out the windshield.

Cliff pointed in front of them. “Fuckin' construction.”

“... _great_...” Jared sighed heavy, almost throwing himself back against the seat as he turned himself to face out his passenger window. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be anytime soon, but he didn't feel like being in a car, trapped with a brooding Jensen. Trouble was, Jared still wanted to strike up a conversation; he hated leaving things like this between them when they left the set. He would be fretting all weekend until Monday. He lifted up his bottom to reach for his cell phone and punched the screen to get it warmed up and functional. When the Qwerty keyboard appeared under his fingers, he went to town.

Jensen felt the vibration against his thigh, then tucked his hand into his front jean pocket to pull out his phone. Stupid. Jared had just sent him a text. He made a weird face, then used only his thumb pad to maneuver the buttons to bring up the text so he could read it. Jensen stretched his arm over the console to read it through his dark shades.

** **are u evr gonna talk to me?** **

Jensen tightened his lips and turned away from Jared to stare out his window into the dimming late afternoon. Even as he rolled his phone around in his hand, he felt the next vibration. This caused him to clear his throat rather loudly, then spin toward Jared. “Are you really going to do _this_... **_now_**?!”

Jared rolled his bottom lip into his top, then used his chin to point. “Read your text.”

Jensen could only stare daggers at Jared, but he had forgotten he was wearing shades, so it made no difference. He transferred the phone to his other hand and pressed his thumb to advance to the next text. As he read the words, he kept his head bowed, chin to chest. All that was there was... “sorry”... with a proper sad face made with punctuation. Jensen was trying not to grin, covering his lower face with his hand and averting his head.

Jared cleared his own throat, stretching his arm across the middle console since Jensen's arm had vanished. He slouched in the seat, leaning his head back on the headrest to turn toward Jensen. “I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry I died in your dream, dude. I'm sorry I put myself in that kinda danger. I'm sorry you weren't there to save me. But, Jen... you can't let it weird you out about today. It was an accident, not some ridiculous premonition. You might work on Supernatural, but you don't have supernatural powers. You're not Dean, dude... and I'm not Sam.”

“It felt real, Jared. It looked fuckin' real... jus' like my—”

“And, mind you, a few weeks ago in another dream, I turned into a fuckin' newborn baby wearing one of your leather jackets. Is this really going to be an argument with you?” Jared was impressed he had gotten at least a chortle out of Jensen. “You can't keep doing this. You gotta shake him off sometime, man. You need to be able to live your life the way Jensen Ackles would. Dean Winchester lives and breathes on that set, not here... with me.”

Jensen knew Jared was right, but today's scene had brought home too much reality. “You'd feel differently if it were the other way around.” And it wasn't only the dream becoming real that had floored him; it was the fact that Dean was such an integral part of him that there were times he felt like Jared WAS his brother, not just his co-star. As men, working in an industry that harbored many secrets and secret lifestyles, it wasn't easy to simply be able to convey a love and adoration for another male without there being too much read into the feeling.

“You mean if I dreamt of you biting it and me not being able to do something to save you?”

“Yeah...” Jensen muttered out as he also began to slouch, drawing up his legs to pushed against Cliff's seat and roll his head on the back of the leather cushions.

“What makes you think I haven't?”

Almost instantly Jensen's gaze locked onto Jared's face. This time he took off the shades, his green eyes intently staring toward concentrated hazel eyes looking right at him. “... you serious?...” Jensen spared a look toward the front to make sure Cliff wasn't trying to spy on them.

Jared tried to lean over the console, but managed to almost choke himself with the lap band and cross-ways seatbelt that held him safely to his seat. Jensen let out a stunted snicker, which then caused Jared to goof around and throw the middle console back into the position of tucked into their benchseat. He had been able to gain a bit extra in his seat belt, so now Jared could lean forward toward Jensen, who watched him with a bit of curious hilarity. Leave it to Jared to make a serious discussion so close to being a random joke-fest.

“I haven't told you about them because—” Jared interrupted himself because he had seen Jensen's eyes go wider. “What?”

“Them? You've had more than one?”

“Yeah... so?” Jared rolled his eyes and then went on, “look, I do get what you mean about Dean being you, you being Dean... some cosmic, spiritual bullshit whatnot... I feel like Sam sometimes, but I think more times when I'm acting I give Sam a bit of who I am—well, the who I am when no one's looking. The private Jared Padalecki no one is allowed to see but close friends and family.” He coughed into his hand, his voice lowering in volume as he kept their conversation as personal as possible.

Jensen couldn't _not_ stare at Jared as he went on talking, looking like “Sammy” with Jared's voice and words coming out, saying everything that was right and agreeable for what they did as their roles on the show they both worked on. It was surreal, and a bit mischievous, because he hated how difficult it was to peel off clothes and make-up to eek out of “Dean”, but yet Jared made smooth transitions between himself and “Sam” to the point where sometimes Jensen couldn't tell where the character ended and the man began. He folded his arms over his chest, his chin resting on his right shoulder as he simply watched Jared talking with his jerky movements, quirky facial expressions... those disarming smiles and then the way he nonchalantly touched Jensen, in some pretty intimate places. Privately, he didn't mind, but most times Jensen didn't like it being done in the spotlight—although he had broken a few of those rules, caught up in the magic and charm of Jared's personality.

Jensen blinked slowly, nearly feeling drowsy.

“Am I boring you?”

Jensen quickly opened his eyes, smirking. “No, man... it was an exhausting day—physically and emotionally.”

It was then that Jared became retrospective, wanting to invade Jensen's personal space like they were two little boys under a thick comforter, late at night... talking and laughing, sharing stories... to Jensen, it felt like something Dean and Sam would've done, when their father had gone on a hunt, leaving them to take care of each other until he returned.

Jared thought Jensen was acting weird—well, weirder than he had before. Now there was this “look” on his face of something akin to bliss. The brim of the cap still hid the upper portion of Jensen's head, but Jared could still see from nose on down to chin and along throat into the collar of the hoodie. For some reason, he reached out to grab the danging strings that worked the hood portion. He kept tying the string around and around his fingers, tugging and fiddling while Jensen stared on. Jared continued to keep the conversation going, Jensen only adding the monosyllabic responses when needed, then he noticed the dark curly lashes falling onto the freshly washed cheeks.

If he had just meet Jensen Ackles, he would've been offended. Like he really believed he had bored Jensen to death and put him to sleep. Knowing him this long, Jared knew Jensen felt comfortable and contented in Jared's company; his voice was actually soothing enough to calm him down to feeling sleepy. Jared understood; he wished he could do the same, but he was filled with some leftover energy.

Cliff had been placing his attention to the bottlenecking traffic, only occasionally looking at his rearview mirror and then trying to glance over his beefy shoulder. It was tough to see them as they were still young men who could curl and tuck into their bodies and hide away like little children. When he was able to come to a full stop, where he could shift gears to do a full check of what was going on behind him... he found that Jared and Jensen had moved almost toward the hump in the seat, where the middle console had once been.

Baseball cap off, hood over his spiked dirty blond locks, Jensen was using Jared's shoulder as a pillow. Jared was about to drift off, lolling his head and jarring awake, until he finally landed his cheek on top of Jensen's hooded head. Somewhere there had been an arm tucked around Jensen to hold him steady, Jensen tucking his right arm between their bodies, aligning with Jared's left thigh in the well-worn and sullied jeans that “Sammy” wore.

Cliff had to turn back around, his eyes blinking fast to quell a bit of moisture. Strange to feel an affinity for whatever lay between these men. Something special that no one else could fill. Something untouchable and precious. He picked up his phone again, looking around to make sure no one was going to call him out for texting while driving. He simply needed to update Beaver, so he could rest assured it would be a smooth sailing with filming on Monday.

 ****long way home work'd. am stuck in traffic. U betta 'tweet' like crazy, old man. entertain me.****


End file.
